Not With Haste
by Finn Scott
Summary: Alfred F Jones was taken to see an up and coming band against his will. Much to his surprise, he starts liking them. Like any fan, he wants to become friends with the members, especially the cool lead singer Artur Kirkland. Can he perform this not so easy feat? Not with haste. Human AU.


Alfred looked out the window of the car he and his brother were currently in. "If this concert thing sucks ass I'm totally going to tell you how bad it was for the next six months," Alfred said, watching the city lights. His brother, Matthew, sighed and shook his head. If Matthew weren't driving right now he might bring his hand up to his face and rub his eyes. He was honestly tired of Alfred and his antics.

"Okay Alfred, but please don't boo them off the stage or anything. That'd be really rude and I know how you get when you are bored so I'm just warning you now. You don't want me to get mad at you do you? We both know what happens when I get mad." Matthew looked ahead at all the cars in front of him. Hopefully those words would set Alfred in line. Hopefully.

Alfred sat up rubbed his eyes under his glasses then looked at Matthew. "Please no. Not another three hour lecture. That's not fun for anyone. I'll try to be on my best behavior, scouts honor!" Alfred put three fingers up and smiled at Matthew. Matthew returned the favor and said, "Thank you brother. I knew you'd understand." He was genuinely happy that Alfred understood, or so he thought.

"Yeah, if I end up not liking them I'll probably just go get a drink and try to hit on some girls or something. No big deal." Alfred shrugged like it was nothing and went back to looking out his window. Matthew was torn between being mad at what Alfred just said, or accepting that he said it. Alfred said dumb things like that all the time, so Matthew thought he would at least be over it, but apparently not. Matthew let out a sigh. There was no point in saying anything to Alfred. His head was too damn thick.

The rest of the time in the car Alfred switched from either looking out the window, trying to find a suitable radio station, or making faces at people in the other cars. It was all well and exciting until they pulled up to their destination. It was almost like a random hole in the wall. As Alfred set his eyes upon it all hopes of the gig even being good flew out the window. "Matt this place looks like shit," Alfred scoffed. Alfred accepted it in his mind that this band was going to suck. They'd probably be some really bad underground hipster band that no one knows about. He figured that's why they were playing in such a dingy place like this. What could any other reason be?

"They aren't that bad. I've listened to their songs before. I've tried to get you to listen but you won't, so that's why I'm dragging you here," Matthew explained as he tried looking for a place to park that was relatively close to the bar. Alfred rolled his eyes as Matthew laughed to himself. "What the hell are you laughing for? There is nothing funny around us. Except for maybe your face. Other than that you can't find a parking spot for some unknown reason, and that's not funny." Alfred's tone of voice was rather bitter.

"Hey! My face isn't funny. It's almost the same face as yours, so by default you are calling yourself funny," Matthew claimed defensively. Alfred snorted. Even if they were only half brothers they did have a striking resemblance to each other. "Anyway," Matthew continued, "the band has quite a fanbase Al. So, that further proves my point that they aren't bad." Alfred snorted again. "Just because they have a fanbase or whatever does not mean that they are good. People have opinions. Somethings have gigantic fan bases, but are really stupid."

"Oh, do you mean like all of your superheros? Those have big fan bases and are really stupid." A devilish smile crept across Matthew's face. He turned left on the road, deciding it would be better to find parking around back. Alfred gasped as the words Matthew said sunk in and took an impact. "How dare you! Take that back! Superheros are awesome and you know it! How can you possibly look me in the eyes and tell me superheros are stupid? I can't believe this, and from my own brother no less. Shame on you Matthew Williams. Shame," Alfred criticized.

"Never." Matthew retorted. Alfred turned and looked at his brother. His one and only brother that he loved so much. He gave him a look of disbelief and sorrow. How could his brother do this to him? Being overly dramatic, Alfred huffed loudly, crossed his arms, and turned his body as much as he could to look away from Matthew. "And you want me to go to this concert thing with you. Turn the car around Matthew. We are going home. You've offended me and we can't find parking. These are perfectly good reasons why my night is ruined and you should take me home," Alfred pouted. He was half lying, half telling the truth. Alfred knew, well hoped really, that Matthew was kidding about the superheros, and he was just being a big baby about the concert.

"Oh stop it you ninny. Stop being an overdramatic ass. I know you're kidding with me. You're going to watch this band and you are going to like them, okay? And do you really think I hate superheros? Wolverine is my favorite! He's a badass mutant from Canada," Matthew insisted. Alfred just huffed again. That would show Matthew. Matthew just shook his head and continued looking for an open parking spot.

His eyes moved back and forth while Alfred sulked on his side of the car. Finally, an open spot was found. Matthew looked to see if any other cars were around, there were none, and went in for the kill. The car was parked, keys taken out of ignition, and doors opened. Well, Matthew had to open Alfred's door for him, but that was beside the point.

The two brothers walked from the back alley way they were parked and to the street where the bar sat. "Okay, we saw the front of the building, can we leave now?" Alfred whined. Matthew didn't respond. They approached the front door and Matthew opened it, holding it out for Alfred to go in.

Upon entering Alfred saw that what he expected to be a dingy, old, and empty bar was actually filled with a good amount of loud people. The bar felt like it was bigger on the inside, even though Alfred knew that was impossible. He turned to his brother and said, "Hey, this place is like that phone box thing on that show with the guy who changes actors every year." Wordlessly, Matthew gave Alfred a look that said "what the hell is wrong with you?". Alfred shrugged and turned to make his way through the sea of people.

Maybe the band was going to be good after all. No, Alfred still had his doubts. He wasn't going to surrender that easy. Alfred F Jones wasn't going down without a fight, like a proper superhero! Alfred turned to Matt, assuming he was right behind him, to ask him if he wanted a drink. Matthew wasn't there. _Dammit Matthew. Why did you have to disappear? You're the easiest person to lose and the hardest person to find, _Alfred thought to himself as he spun around in a circle. Alfred pushed through the crowd trying to find Matthew. After what seemed like forever, he gave up.

Matthew got lost very easily. It happened all the time when they were with their dad as kids. It was usually Alfred's fault. He'd drag Matthew some unknown place and then just leave him there. Matthew would try to find Alfred, or their dad, but to no avail. Finding Matthew was like playing Where's Waldo, except it wasn't as fun. It usually brought a lot of stress.

And right now Alfred wasn't really looking for stress. He was already bored, so he pushed through the noisy and smelly crowd once more to get to the bar. Alfred ordered a bottle of beer and turned toward the stage. He could see people were setting up. Some man with shoulder length dirty-blond hair was doing a mic check, a guy with messy chestnut colored hair was taking several string instruments out of cases and setting them on stands, and a man with hair that looked silver was setting up a drum set. The three of them looked like a group of ragtag misfits. It they were it, they were pretty small for a band. Surely they didn't need all of those various stringed instruments.

Alfred wanted to get a better look nonetheless so he walked closer to the stage. A third time he pushed through people. He came to a mediocre spot not directly in the middle of the mob, but quite close to it. He stood there and waited for more things to happen.

The man with the dirty-blond hair opened up a case on the ground and brought out a keyboard. He put it on its stand and plugged it in, and played a couple of notes to see if it was okay to play. After deeming it suitable, he grabbed a microphone and stand to put in front of the keyboard. Alfred wondered if this man could be the singer. He definitely looked like the singing type, or at least musical.

He was wearing a light pink t-shirt, a light gray scarf barely hung around his neck, and tight blue jeans clung to his legs. A scraggly beard resided on his chin. Alfred had seen his type before. They hung around coffee shops and old record stores. Matt had called them hipsters or something. Apparently they only listened to music that no one cared about, and were pretentious assholes. Alfred didn't really know what to think of them. So far he couldn't care less. He didn't really have a snide comment to make, or anyone to say it to, so he kept quiet and kept watching.

Alfred's vision shifted to the tan man with messy chestnut hair. He had moved his guitar to a stand and was setting up a microphone. Did everyone in this band sing? Alfred looked to see if the man with the odd silver hair had a microphone. It didn't seem like he did. All he had was a drum set, and he looked absolutely happy about that. Alfred could tell this guy was a percussionist. He seemed like the kind of person who liked to make a lot of loud noises.

Suddenly a woman appeared. She was a dark tan with dark brown hair. There were several whistles and cheers when she walked across the stage to the man with chestnut hair. She turned to the crowd, smiled, waved, shook some hands, and then went back to the man. Alfred watched as he handed her one of the stringed instruments, it looked like an odd and tiny guitar. She strummed it a bit and then gave him a thumbs up. They went through this process until all of the instruments were ready.

The four band members on the stage suddenly got into position as the lights above them shone down. It appeared as if one spot was still left wide open. Alfred wondered if someone was going to come out and fill that spot. Someone had to, or else there wouldn't be a reason for a microphone, it'd be useless and serve no purpose.

Then it started. A man walked across the stage and stood at the lone microphone. He had messy dark blond hair, eyes a deep green like freshly cut grass in the summertime, and a wry smile crossing his face. There was something else about him that Alfred noticed. It was one of the most odd things he had ever seen in his whole life. The man had very thick eyebrows. Alfred had never seen anyone with such thick eyebrows, he didn't think it was possible.

Alfred shook his head, clearing all thoughts of the odd eyebrows, and went back to focus on this man was about to do. Everyone in the room was clapping, or cheering, or chanting "Arthur". Alfred decided that Arthur must be his name. Arthur shook his head up and down as he scanned the crowd and smiled. He did not say a word, and for some reason this bugged Alfred. Alfred wanted him to do something, say something, anything at all. He wanted to get to know the voice behind this mystifying man.

Arthur opened his mouth, closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and started singing into the microphone. The other members of the band began playing their instruments. The sights and sounds all came together to create something incredibly beautiful. Alfred's eyebrows drew together and his mouth became slightly agape. He was surprised. Arthur's voice and the music came together to create one of the most beautiful things he had ever heard in his whole life. The lyrics were also spectacular. Unlike the lyrics in the songs Alfred usually listened to, these had depth and meaning. Alfred could relate to them, he could feel the feelings they were trying to convey.

Alfred watched as the band members became utterly consumed with what they were doing. They seemed to be using every ounce of their being as they performed. Alfred was mesmerized. He'd never experienced anything quite like this. Never had he seen anyone so in love with what they were doing.

As sudden as the song had started, it stopped. The people in the bar started cheering and clapping in praise. Alfred joined them. He whooped and he hollered. Arthur watched on as the bar cheered. He smiled and began to speak. Alfred was surprised once more. Arthur had an accent, an English one to be specific. Alfred wasn't really expecting that, seeing as they were on the west coast of America, about as far from England as Alfred could imagine.

"Hello everyone. Man, this is a great turn out," Arthur started, "Well for those of you who are new to us, I'm Arthur Kirkland, lead singer of Arthur and the Pirates. I also play the bass and most recently, the banjo. This is Michelle, our second vocals and player of various string instruments such as the mandolin and fiddle." Arthur gestured toward the tan girl. The crowed cheered and Michelle bowed. "Thank you!" Michelle said, a light French accent present. Arthur continued, gesturing towards the chestnut haired man. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, our lead guitar!"

Antonio smiled and waved at the crowd. "Our very, er, eccentric drummer, Gilbert Beilschmidt!" Gilbert stood up and hollered, "Yeah! Cheer for me! You know you love the awesome drummer me!" He fist pumped in the air twice before sitting down. "Thank you for that Gil," Arthur said, shaking his head. "Last, but not least, we have Francis Bonnefoy. He's our very French keyboardist. He also plays the accordion when needed." Francis brought his microphone to his mouth and shot Arthur a very confused look. "And what does being French have to do with anything? I'm still an extraordinary keyboardist, you Englishman."

Arthur let out a very sarcastic laugh, "Oh Francis, you know it has to do with everything." Francis opened his mouth to say something, but then Michelle spoke. "Boys, not in front of the children. Please." Her tone was very commanding. She shot both of the men a sincere look. Arthur cleared his throat then said, "Righto, we've got a show to do." Francis shook his head in agreement and set his microphone back in its regular position.

Alfred was amused by how these two men could be controlled by a simple command from a seemingly normal girl. Alfred had obviously underestimated her. She had spunk.

Arthur said the name to the next song and counted down from three before singing. Alfred was caught in a trance once again. His heartbeat quickened, his palms went clammy, and chills ran up and down his spine giving him goose bumps. Alfred had heard once that if a song gave you chills it was a good sign. Two songs in a row had made him feel like this, and he was totally loving it. He wondered why he was so opposed to coming here in the first place, then he was thankful Matthew hadn't listened to him and taken him back home. Alfred wanted to hug Matthew and tell him he was such an awesome brother for bringing him here, well if he could find Matthew.

Alfred wondered if Matthew was going through the same experience as he was. Was he feeling all the things Alfred himself was feeling, or was he just standing at the back of the bar indifferent to it all? Matthew wasn't the type to be indifferent, he was too nice and too quiet. Alfred was sure Matthew probably felt something.

The band finished their second song, and Arthur began to talk a bit about it. Alfred's view of the stage was compromised. He began to jump up and down to see what was happening. The little beer left in the bottle was sloshing around. "Hey, settle down up there! We can't see either you know!" A voice called up to Alfred. Alfred stopped jumping and growled with anger. The man standing in front of him apparently noticed this and turned around. He had sweet smile and shining eyes that looked violet, even though Alfred knew that couldn't be possible. "Oh, I am sorry. Are you wanting me to move over a bit so you can see the stage too?" The man asked. The accent coating his voice sounded slightly Russian.

Alfred cocked an eyebrow and said, "Well duh. You're extremely tall. I don't think I can look through you. It'd be nice if you'd move though. Thanks." The tall, seemingly Russian, man nodded his head with a smile and moved back to where he originally stood before interrupting Alfred's view. "Creep," Alfred scoffed under his breath.

His view of the stage was better now. Alfred thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the show. It had humor from Arthur actually joking around and then the other members poking fun at each other in between songs. The five members up on stage seemed like a really close family. It was really enjoyable watching them interact. Alfred wondered if he would ever have something like that with someone other than Matthew.

As the band said their goodbyes and started to pack up their instruments someone bumped into Alfred. "Hey man watch where you're- Oh! Mattie! I thought I lost you, buddy. What did you think of the show?" Looking a bit disoriented, Matthew shook his head and gave Alfred a tiny smile. "I loved it. Seeing as you are still inside, I can assume you liked it too, right?" Matthew asked. Alfred's eyes widened and he smiled. "Hell yeah I liked it! Why wouldn't I? The band members are all so great! They've got wicked chemistry and I totally think we should see them again. Don't you think?"

To Matthew, Alfred was unexpectedly excited about this band. Matthew didn't know what had changed in Alfred. He decided not to question it. "Oh sure. We'll find out when they have a next show and go to it. Wow. It's really nice to see you excited about this. I'm glad you liked them Alfred. I was a little worried there for awhile." Matthew flashed a smile at Alfred. Alfred let out a hearty laugh as he ruffled Matthew's hair. "Damn Mattie, you worry too much. Loosen up. I'm glad I like them too. I'm just an excitable person," Alfred said, shrugging at his last statement. He was an excitable person, but there wasn't any reason to not be. There's just too many cool things in life.

"You know what would be really cool? If we got to talk to the band members. That would just make my night. You want to go see if we can talk to them? All we have to say is that they were good, that's it, then we can leave. Please Mattie, please?" Alfred begged. Matthew sighed, "It's really late. I need to get home so I can go to sleep. Can't we do this next time?" Alfred whined and looked at Matthew with the best puppy dog face he could muster. Matthew opened his mouth to protest but deep down he knew saying no with Alfred wouldn't work. Alfred wouldn't listen, he never did.

Matthew rolled his eyes and groaned, "Lead the way Alfred." A bright smile replaced the pout on Alfred's face. Alfred grabbed Matthew's wrist, so he wouldn't be lost, and guided through the crowd towards the side of the stage where a group of people were waiting. The group of people was an unorganized mess. People were just kind of standing at the entrance of the stage. To Alfred it appeared as if they might be waiting, which they probably were.

Alfred let go of Matthew's wrist and said, "Now we wait." Matthews eyes widened in fear. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to go home, change into sleeping clothes, and then go to sleep and not wake up until the early afternoon. Alfred was going to mess up his lazy Sunday sleeping schedule. "Hey. Matthew Williams. Are you okay? You look like a deer in the headlights," Alfred pointed out. Matthew shook his head and replied, "Oh no. I'm fine, just tired is all. I want to get my sleep."

Alfred shook his head indicating he understood. He may have understood, but he didn't care enough to give up and go home. Alfred looked down at his watch. It read half past midnight. He started tapping his foot impatiently. The two brothers hadn't been standing by the stage that long, but Alfred was getting impatient nonetheless.

Matthew closed his eyes and leaned up against Alfred. "Are you going to fall asleep on me?" Alfred asked. "I'm going to try not to," Matthew mumbled under his breath. Alfred stifled a laugh. He didn't understand how Matthew could be tired at this hour. Alfred was used to stay up, though. He stayed up extremely late most nights on his computer or any various gaming system. Standing in line was nothing to him. He could do this all night.

The two of them stood waiting for something to happen. Alfred hummed a song while Matthew nodded off on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred could see that the stage was mostly packed up. Hopefully they would be able to see the band soon. He checked his watch again to see how much time had passed. A gruelling thirty minutes had passed. Alfred wasn't sure if he could stand having Matthew on him for much longer, he was pretty heavy. "Um excuse me!" A woman's voice called. "I'm over here on the stage, for those of you who can't see me," she continued.

Alfred looked towards the stage and saw a younger woman, who had a striking resemblance to the French keyboardist, standing on stage holding a microphone. "Hello, I'm Emilie, the band's manager, and I have some bad news. I regret to inform you that the band will not be seeing anyone tonight. Arthur and Francis have had a debacle, but don't worry we've got it all sorted. Ultimately I think the band is exhausted. They've had a tiring week with rehearsals and trying to get a record deal so they're just going to finish packing their stuff and then head out on the road. Thank you and have a good night!" A collective groan could be heard coming from the people who were waiting and Alfred alike.

Matthew woke up and removed himself from Alfred's shoulder. "What happened?" He asked groggily. "We don't get to talk to them this time. Maybe next time though," Alfred replied, his tone of voice hinting at sad. "That's okay Al. We'll definitely find out the next time they are playing so we can meet them. Don't be sad," Matthew consoled. Alfred shook his head and began walking out of the bar and into the chill of the autumn air while Matthew followed him.

The brothers walked to their car and drove through the city back to their apartment. Even if Alfred was sad, he had a sense of hope. He'd see the band again soon and then he could talk to them. He would be able to tell them how great they sounded, and maybe he could shake their hands. Alfred liked the idea of shaking their hands. It wasn't too pushy or anything. It was just right.

He decided he would shake their hands. Especially the lead singer with the perplexing eyebrows. There was something about him, not just his eyebrows, that made Alfred smile. Maybe it was his dashing good looks, or his exceptional singing voice. Maybe it was how his lyrics spoke to every part of Alfred, or his air of confidence. Then again it could be none of that and just the eyebrows. The world works in mysterious ways, and Alfred was okay with that.


End file.
